SIR GEOFFREY. You've known it, of course, all the time; you've known it ever since Jack brought me to you, the day after you were engaged. And that's nine years ago. It's the usual kind of fatality. LADY TORMINSTER. These things happen. SIR GEOFFREY. Yes. Well, I thought I was cured. I've been here five days, and I find I am not. So I go. That's best, isn't it? LADY TORMINSTER. Yes. SIR GEOFFREY. It's so infernally stupid. You're a beautiful woman, of course; but there are heaps of beautiful women. You've qualities--well, so have other women, too. I'm only forty-one--and, as you say, why don't I marry? Simply because of you. Because you've an uncomfortable knack of intruding between me and the other lady. LADY TORMINSTER. That is a great misfortune. SIR GEOFFREY. It's most annoying. So I shall try China. I shall come back in two years--I shall be forty-three then--I shall come back, sound as a bell; and I shall marry some healthy, pink-cheeked young woman, take a house next to yours, and in the fulness of time your eldest son shall fall in love with my daughter. LADY TORMINSTER. Why not? SIR GEOFFREY. I shouldn't have told you, of course; but I'm glad that I have. It clears the air. Now what excuse shall I make? LADY TORMINSTER. A wire from town? SIR GEOFFREY. Jack knows all about my affairs; in fact, that's why I take the early train, to avoid his questions. LADY TORMINSTER. You find it impossible to stay out your time here? SIR GEOFFREY. Quite. There are moments when I am unpleasantly volcanic. LADY TORMINSTER. Then I tell you the best thing to do. Don't take your trunks; just go up with a bag. Leave a note that you'll come back on Tuesday. Then write from town and say you're prevented. SIR GEOFFREY. That's a good idea--yes, that's much better. LADY TORMINSTER. And, if you find that you really cannot come back-- SIR GEOFFREY. Exactly; you'll forward my goods and chattels. And old Jack will ascribe it all to my wayward mood; he'll think I have found it too dull down here. I'm immensely obliged. LADY TORMINSTER. [_With a smile._] Remark that I've not offered to be a sister to you. SIR GEOFFREY. You've been superb. Oh, the good talk we've had! Do you know, I could almost wish old Jack to have heard what I said. I'm so fond of him, that grand old fellow, that I've been on the point of telling him, myself, more than once. For you know he _will_ have me take you about, and it's painful. Besides, I've felt it almost disloyal to--keep this thing from him. You understand, don't you? LADY TORMINSTER. Yes. SIR GEOFFREY. He and I almost are one, you see. It's not British to show any feeling, but really I--love him. And the devil comes along, and, of all women in the world, singles out Jack's wife, and fills my heart with her. That's the devil's sense of humour. LADY TORMINSTER. Perhaps he has read Bernard Shaw. But you must never let Jack know--never.